


Collection of Drabbles and Ficlets

by SereneFreakGeek



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabbles, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-02-13 18:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12990174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SereneFreakGeek/pseuds/SereneFreakGeek
Summary: A collection of (usually requested) drabbles and ficlets that I feel are either too short/[insert other reason] to be posted by themselves. Each chapter is a new story, unless stated otherwise. Find all of these and more on my tumblr: @serenefreakgeekao3





	1. Pet Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eighth-year headcanon where McGonagall tells Harry and Draco to stop calling each other by their last names to promote house unity, so they instead start calling each other the cheesiest pet names ever, and everyone assumes they're dating.  
> [Headcanon by @http-drarry on tumblr, requested by @auriwind on tumblr]

“So, to promote inter-house unity, I officially declare that you two are not to call each other by your surnames anymore.”

The silence was deafening. The delayed screech of, “What?!” Was just as deafening once Malfoy had come to his senses. Harry stared at him, mouth hanging open in shock, before glancing quickly back to Prof-  _Headmistress_  McGonagal. Her smirk never faded, she simply leaned forward and slid a slightly shimmering piece of paper toward them.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Headmistress, but we’re not exactly on a first name basis,” Harry mumbled out weakly, shoving his hands into his jean pockets and shuffling on his feet slightly. He felt Malfoy shoot him a glare before looking back toward McGonagal.

“Okay,” He finally heard Malfoy say, after a moment, and the shocked, mouth-dropped-open look was back as he stared at the blond.

“Okay?” Harry questioned, furrowing his brow and finally snapping his jaw shut. Malfoy just cocked an eyebrow at him, turning and immediately walking forward. He yanked the proffered quill and signed his name quickly, turning and offering it to Harry, placing his other hand on his hip.

Harry tried not to notice how a small dot of ink now stained the tip of one of his fingers, and turned instead toward the parchment as he took the quill gently. Sighing, defeated, he leaned over and dipped the quill in the inkwell, signing his name is his signature sloppy way.

He stood, shooting a glare at Mal-… At Mal-

He whirled around quickly, widening his eyes toward the Headmistress.

“Have a good rest of the weekend boys, and remember the ten-inch you need to hand in on Monday.” She rolled the shimmering parchment up with an almost identical glint in her eye, effectively dismissing them. Harry and  _the other boy_  left the room, standing still as the door closed behind them.

“Guess I’ll see you in Potions Monday morning,  _darling_.”

Harry hesitated at this, but turned and saw the obvious hate-filled sneer, before screwing his face up and replying, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,  _sweetheart_.”

And that was how it all started.

-

Harry had managed to avoid Draco the entire weekend. The boy was never brought up in regular conversation, and Hermione and Ron seemed to be  _used to_  Harry’s glaring across the Great Hall during mealtimes. It wasn’t until Monday morning, as mentioned, that things became a little weird.

“ _So_  nice to see you, honey.” Mal- Draco sneered from where he stood, propped against the wall next to the locked potions classroom. What there was of the class so far had gathered outside of the door, and every voice fell quiet as all eyes landed on the two of them.

“So sorry to keep you waiting, dearest.” Harry replied icily, narrowing his eyes at the prat.

“Harry, mate, wha-”

“Ah, class, I apologize! I thought I had unlocked the door  _hours_  ago. Come in, come in!” Slughorn’s voice drowned out, cutting off Ron’s reply, before ushering everyone inside the classroom. If he noticed how everyone kept shooting glances between the two boys, he didn’t show it.

Ron continued trying to question Harry, but he would just reply with, “Drop it,” before shooting another glare toward the ice prince. Though, of course, looking at him so often Harry couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he moved in this subject. How confident his posture was, how he managed to create the perfect potion while Harry’s sludged around like tar.

The rest of the period went by uneventful (besides the one time Draco accidently dropped his quill and bent over, revealing the shapely curve of his arse just as Harry somehow managed to catch his tar-sludge on fire). However, before each class they shared together, three in total including Transfiguration that Headmistress McGonagal still insisted on teaching, Draco sneered a new nickname that Harry answered with a skillful retort, the two of them cycling through various pet names.

“Nice tie, hero. The colour really clashes with your- well, everything.”

“Thanks, prince charming. I’ll take that into consideration once you do something about that Merlin-awful grease coating your hair.”

“I see the trip up all those stairs didn’t kill you yet, star light. Shame.”

“I see you’re still as clever as ever, Romeo.”

-

Harry slinked past the portrait to the eighth year common room, blinking wearily and rubbing his eyes. It was late and Harry had stayed up past curfew working on his DADA essay, getting sucked into it more than he had before in previous years. He actually  _enjoyed_  the subject, and hoped it would lead him somewhere nice.

“What are you still doing up, Po- Pot-” Harry glanced up in time to see an aggravated hand run through his  _not-slicked-back_  hair. “ _Cutie_.”

“Weak. And I just finished my Defense essay, if you must know, champ.”

“Champ? Really?” Draco replied, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows in disbelief. Harry only shrugged lazily.

“It works.” The scoff he got in reply caused him to slide his bookbag off of his shoulder to hold in his hand. “Alright, how about- I don’t know- honeybear?”

“Honey was already used,” Draco replied poshly, lifting his chin. This only aggravated Harry, who now ran his own hand through his hair.

“Just bear, then.”

“Do I look like a bear?”

“Merlin, I’m tired, babe!” Harry practically shouted, rolling his eyes. He heard a gasp drawn up, narrowing his eyes toward an astonished Draco. “I’m going to sleep.” He side-stepped around the aggravator, walking up the steps toward the boys dorms and down the hall.

-

The following morning was filled with whispers and glances toward Harry, and he could’ve sworn he heard the word ‘gay’ uttered a few too many times to be a coincidence. Though, running into Draco as they entered the classroom seemed even weirder- Draco hadn’t said a word to him.

“Kneazle got your tongue, sweet pea?” Harry called toward him once it looked obvious he wasn’t going to say anything. Draco seemed to flush from this, turning and shaking his head slowly as he continued into the classroom and ignored Harry. He didn’t know why this bothered him so much. It had only been a week of teasing, but had someone won? Why did he suddenly stop?

So, of course, Harry cornered him in the next class they shared. “Come on, I know you can think of some more clever names, pumpkin.” Draco just brushed past Harry, and he tried to hide the pain he felt in his chest. He shook his head, starting toward his own seat.

“Why aren’t you answering me,  _darling_?” Harry asked, putting emphasis on the pet name that was obviously said once before. Draco just stared up into his eyes for a few moments before shaking his head once again and entering the classroom. Harry’s fists hurt from being clenched together so hard and he soon found himself sitting in the usual vacant spot next to Draco in Transfiguration.

“What are you doing?” Draco whispered harshly over toward him, his brows furrowing. Harry turned a glare toward him.

“Oh? I exist  _now_?” Harry replied before withdrawing his books and placing them on the table. He sent a glance toward Ron, who he usually sat with, though was only met with a grin and thumbs up from the boy. What was that even supposed to mean?

After Harry’s comment, Draco seemed to take it to heart before turning and focusing solely on the Headmistress teaching, ignoring Harry completely. Harry absolutely refused to acknowledge the pain blossoming in his chest still.

-

“Draco!” Harry yelled out, running through the hall and catching up to the blonde, grabbing his wrist and twirling him around to see him.

“What?” Draco practically yelled in response.

“Tell. Me. What. Happened.” Harry bit out, punctuating each word.

_“Just kiss and make up already!”_

Harry practically jumped out of his skin from the shout down the hall, spinning around to try and spy who said it, though unable to locate the source from the crowd in the hall.

“ _That_. That is what happened.” Draco ground out, his voice low. He leaned forward slightly, whispering quickly. “They think we’re dating, Harry.”

His name, said by that voice, from that mouth, sent Harry into shock. He kept glancing between Draco’s eyes, the icy colour that was set off perfectly when partnered with the royal blue cashmere sweater he wore, and down to his lips, a pale pink that teased him when Draco stuck the tip of his tongue out to wet them.

“And that’s a bad thing?” Harry questioned quietly, finally settling his eyes on Draco’s own, seeing the surprise there again.

“We- I- You-” Draco stuttered, caught off guard.

“Draco?” Harry inquired, his voice low as his gaze dropped to settle on Draco’s lips.

“Yes, Harry?” Draco whispered, and the way he spoke his name immediately beat every pet name they had ever came up with.

“Can we?”

“C-Can we what?” Draco stuttered out, widening his eyes.

“Kiss and make up, already?” Harry said, taking a step forward toward Draco, smirking when Draco didn’t move away.

“Yes.” The word was barely whispered, but Harry watched his lips form the consent before leaning forward quickly and forming his mouth against Draco’s own. Cheers surrounded the boys, but Harry didn’t hear them, leaning into the kiss and choking back a groan when Draco stuck his tongue out to lick against Harry’s bottom lip. Both of their mouths opened, exploring one another before Harry pulled Draco flush against him, wrapping his arms around Draco’s lower back and holding him there.

When they finally came up for air, Harry smiled a stupidly happy lop-sided grin and leaned forward, whispering, “Do I still get to call you babe?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darling | Sweetheart | Honey | Dearest | Hero | Prince charming | Star light | Romeo | Cutie | Champ | (Honey)Bear | Babe | Sweet pea | Pumpkin | Darling (again) | Babe (again)


	2. 'I touched his arse'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet is based on the comic strip by [@danasauurrr](http://danasauurrr.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, and you can find the comic [HERE!](https://serenefreakgeekao3.tumblr.com/post/168071864055/miroslavaart-i-tried-written-with-permission)

**“Hey Harry, don’t you think there’s something different with Malfoy?”**

Harry blinked in confusion, turning to look over his shoulder toward the mentioned boy,  **“Malfoy?”**  He studied the sharp facial features, pointed nose, blonde hair slicked back and tilted his head in confusion.  **“Hmmm… I don’t see anything?”**

Then something happened.

Malfoy, the very same prick he had once called a nemesis, turned his head toward Harry. He lifted his chin up slightly in a way that Harry once labelled as arrogant, though could only perceive as posturing to his features now. He smirked in his usual way, though Harry noticed how his features softened instead of sharpened now. And suddenly something clicked in Harry’s mind- Malfoy  _was_  different. He was taller, he had filled out of his stressed, too skinny frame into something healthy and muscular, and his icy eyes that had once meant only despair to Harry before now glittered like freshly laid snow.

Yet, at the same time that Harry began his self-discovery, Malfoy  **scoff** ed and turned on his usual charm.  **“What are you staring at, Scarhead?”**

**’ _What the fuck,_ ’**

**“Didn’t your parents teach you it’s rude to stare?”**

**’ _What is this,_ ’**

Malfoy smirked, eyes shining in a way that clearly showed their mirth, and all Harry could think was **’ _He’s hot,_ ’** in a way that he couldn’t register as being either a question or an exclamation.

And by this point in his life, Harry was old enough to get over some things. For one, he was used to the ‘dead parents’ bully bit. He had enough of it growing up with Dudley, adding on that Malfoy had already pulled that trick helped on that front. And to be honest, Harry was tired of war. He was tired of animosity and battling. However. Harry’s face, he could feel, was blaringly hot. It was practically radiating enough heat to warm a Hogwarts at winter, and Malfoy had  _noticed_  him staring. Of course he had to do something.

 **“I’m gonna fight him.”** Harry said seriously, narrowing his eyes toward the other boy. Ron sputtered next to him, reaching a hand out quickly to place on his chest.

 **“Harry, no!”**  Ron said quickly, glancing around for the aide of his girlfriend who would clearly talk sense into this poor boy. Alas, after not spying her, Ron turned back toward Harry, a tad frantic. “ **Why** , even?”

 **“Harry yes,”**  The boy replied, not even hearing Ron’s question, and began his march toward the blonde. Fear shone in the blonde’s elegant eyes for a brief second before he lifted himself high as if to maintain some dignity. Harry smirked, widening his eyes in challenge toward the boy, reaching forward to fist his shirt while simultaneously sweeping his right foot out to catch behind Malfoy’s left, effectively tripping him. Harry used the shirt gripped in his hands efficiently, lowering him to the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of him, but not too hard as to cause a head injury. And Harry was rewarded with a confused, yet still scared, wide-eyed stare up at Harry, whom was now straddling him.

Things quickly changed once Malfoy’s mind caught up with him. He used strength that Harry hadn’t realized he possessed, rolling them over for Malfoy to be on top. The boy glared downward with icy hatred before swinging down and landing a punch against Harry’s nose. He swung again, aiming for the same place, and Harry felt a small crack and the hot, liquid feeling of blood leaking from his nose. He placed his hands on Malfoy’s arse (purely for strategic reasons), and pushed upward, knocking the man off-kilter and effectively making him roll away.

Harry grinned, standing and spinning on his heel to face Malfoy again, the other boy still looking like Ron in Potions, confused and scared.  _'Yeah, more of that,’_ Harry managed to think to himself before beginning to walk forward-

Until Ron grabbed him from behind and began dragging him away.

-

 **“Was it worth it?”**  Ron spit out angrily, walking quickly into the Gryffindor common room. “There you are!”

Hermione glanced up from her spot at the couch when her boyfriend yelled at her. She raised an eyebrow, throwing curious looks between Harry and Ron.

 **“Yes,”**  Harry answered simply, following behind slower and crossing his arms defiantly.

 **“No, mate!”**  Ron yelled out, plopping down onto the couch next to Hermione, exhausted. “No is the answer to that question.” He began rubbing his face while Hermione slowly shut the textbook on her lap, glancing between the two.

 _ **'I touched his arse,’**  _Harry thought to himself firmly,  _'That’s a win for me.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Pls don’t trip people and start fights cause you wanna touch da booty. A nice hello is a good alternative


	3. I want to take care of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Request:** #19 for the Drarry drabble prompts, please! Draco speaking to Harry if possible, but either way is fine, thanks :) :) – ( [@restlessandordinary](https://tmblr.co/mY7ai6setQzh6L0xB0q3asQ) )
> 
>  **Prompt:** “I want to take care of you”
> 
>  **Rated:** T
> 
>  **Warnings:** Cursing, Light angst, Mentions of nightmares, (my constant use of  _italics_  for emphasis)
> 
>  **Words:** 4.3k

Draco Malfoy was not one easily surprised. Hosting a Dark Lord in your home for a year, being raised how he was to imitate polite social structures, to be ready for absolutely anything- most things he had been through helped Draco learn to expect the unexpected. So when something happened, not entirely unexpected- some would even say it was expected- Draco was confused as to his clear surprise on the matter.   
To be thoroughly clear, Draco was not surprised to be forced into attending his eighth year of Hogwarts by the Ministry. He was not surprised to be separated from the regular school into a ‘fifth house,’ if you will, made entirely of the eighth year students. He was still unsurprised when McGonagall practically forced him to room with his once-rival Harry Potter.   
Draco Malfoy was surprised that he had somehow developed feelings for the one and only Harry Potter.  
Some would say it was a long time coming, with emotions always rolling high between the two of them. Some would say it was to be expected when living in such close quarters to a guy you had expected to be completely different but was pleasantly surprised to find out he wasn’t. Some would even say, “Draco, stop staring at him right now, you literally look like a creepy stalker.”  
Draco Malfoy would ignore these said people.  
Draco was seated in the library, observing Harry with one of his trio members, Hermione, while they studied, laughing occasionally. He was happy seeing him with such a carefree expression, so different from his usual one nowadays where it so often looks like a combination of grief and self-loathing. He studied the way Harry’s eyes lit up every time he laughed, or how he was only pretending to study, either never turning his page or turning them too often to be believable. Draco may have been staring for a tad too long.   
When Ron came to collect his girlfriend, Harry waved the two goodbye and glanced down toward his books as if he actually planned to study now that he was alone. This lasted about thirty seconds before he shook his head and started glancing around the library for something more interesting to focus on. Draco quickly dropped his head, propping his book slightly as if he wasn’t spending his entire day staring at the golden boy.  
Though, he jumped once a book was dropped onto his table, glancing up to notice the very same boy standing in front of him. Draco just stared, his mouth parted slightly, refusing to believe that he was surprised yet again by this gorgeous boy.  
“Hey. Uhm, Hermione just left,” Harry began sheepishly, sticking a thumb out and pointing behind himself, shrugging slightly, “I figured I could study with you? We’re not- not enemies anymore, right? Like, we’re friends? This is okay?” A slight blush rose on his cheeks and the boy looked downward, seeming smaller than he actually was. Draco quickly realized how self-conscious the boy was being, and sat up straight, reaching a hand out to pat on Harry’s arm.  
“Yeah. Come, sit. Maybe you’ll actually read something this time instead of just pretending to.” He hadn’t meant for the words to come out, to reveal the extent of his Potter-watching, but Draco rolled with it as if he didn’t just reveal something horrifying. He watched Harry blush more, lowering his head as if attempting to hide a small smile that spread on his face, pulling on the seat across from Draco and slipping into it.  
“Yeah. That’d probably be a good idea if I plan to pass any of my classes.” Harry replied sheepishly, and Draco couldn’t be more glad the Gryffindor boy wasn’t put in Slytherin at that moment or he would have held what he said over him constantly. Either that, or he just didn’t realize what it meant that Draco had said that. Either way, Draco wasn’t going to correct it.

Harry and Draco began studying then, Draco leaning over every once in awhile to help Harry, pushing him into studying after one uttered, “It’s been five minutes and you’re still on the same paragraph, Potter?” It seemed to spark something in Harry, to push and do as much as possible before Draco leaned over to check his progress again, correcting some things or sometimes just reading over his notes. Draco quickly realized Harry hadn’t ever had a study partner that challenged him to work, to do so much in a certain amount of time. Hermione likely just sat near him and made sure he was working without actually giving him the incentive  _to_  work.   
“Draco,” Harry cut off his inner monologue, and Draco glanced up, eyes slightly wide. “Uh- I just wanted to say thank you. I wasn’t even thinking of how much work I was doing. I just finished this entire assignment and-” Harry paused to chuckle, running his hand through his hair, “That was the easiest Transfiguration essay I’ve ever written.”  
Draco smirked, letting his eyes fall away from that gorgeous smile directed at him lest he fall apart right in front of the man. “You just need the right study partner, study techniques.” Draco glanced up again, smirk growing as he adds, “In your own personal challenge to beat me, you were too distracted to notice how terribly boring the words you were writing were.” He watched as Harry flushed adorably once more, and Draco smirked slightly to himself, taking that as his own victory.

“You knew I was doing that then?” Harry mumbled toward his essay, and Draco was unsure whether or not Harry actually meant for him to hear it.

“It was easy to notice, you had the same spark in your eye that you usually did whenever we were about to duel in the schoolyard.” Draco winked toward Harry as he sat up straighter, beginning to pack his belongings. “Anyway, I’d say this was a successful day. We should head back to our room. Perhaps I’ll see you here tomorrow, after dinner? We could study some more.” He watched as Harry practically lit up, standing and shoving his own books and papers into his bag in no semblance of an order. Draco forced the smile that was threatening to emerge down, refusing to show his amusement toward the reaction.

—

Harry looked the worst he’s ever been. And that’s saying something considering he had previously died before. He was curled up in bed wearing only an overly large Harpies T-shirt and grey pants, his lightweight sheet curled and tangled around his feet, tissues surrounding him like a halo. His nose was bright red, eyes bloodshot, and was rubbing his face against his pillow as if it could end his suffering.

“Please,” Harry begged for the thousandth time this morning.

“Potter, I’m sorry. Madame Pomfrey said that you’ll have to pass this one through. It’s healthy to work through being sick once a year so that your immunity doesn’t turn to shit.” Draco reiterated once more, carrying over their trashcan and placing it next to his bed. Harry just groaned, shaking his head and glaring at Draco.

“Fine!” He spat angrily, and Draco took a deep breath, shaking his head. “At least bring me Herm- no, Ron! Bring me Ron, please please please!” Harry begged, sitting up on his elbow to look at Draco with puppy eyes. Draco was impressed by how much energy he had left still to beg.

“If I bring Ron in here you’ll guilt him into bringing you the flu-over potion. No.” Draco insisted, matter-of-factly, and Harry just fell backwards onto his bed with a groan, closing his eyes and rubbing his hands down his face. Draco let his guard fall slightly now that Harry wasn’t looking. It hurt him to see Harry in so much pain, to see him beg and plead for something that could help him feel better yet Draco  _denies_  it to him. He felt like such an evil person again.

“I need to get to class, Potter. I’ll bring you your work for the first half of the day around lunch, alright?” Draco reassured him, patting his leg before turning around and walking toward the door. Just as he opened it, he heard his name being called softly, and Draco turned slowly to glance toward Harry, who was sitting up slightly and looking a tad guilty toward him.

“I’m sorry. I know this isn’t your fault. You’ve helped me a ton already, with the soup and tissues and everything. So, thanks.” Harry rubbed the back of his head, and looked the sight of the poor, sickly little boy that Draco just wanted to take care of.

“Of course, Harry,” Draco replied quietly, walking out the door quickly and closing it behind himself. Walking down the stairs to the common room, Draco grumbled and shook his head toward a waiting Hermione. “He’ll be okay. Just feels horrible.” He ran a hand through his hair and watched her track the movement with her eyes. “I don’t know how the muggles go through it every single time.”

“Well, they have medicine, of course.” She replies easily as they begin walking, exiting the common room on their way to their first shared class. Draco furrows his brow, tilting his head.

“What? They  _can’t_  have the flu-over potion. That’d go against every Statute.” Draco replied, glancing toward her with an overly confused expression. She just chuckled and rolled her eyes.

“Of course not. They have _muggle_  medicine. It definitely doesn’t work as quickly or as well as the flu-over, but it helps cover symptoms so that they’re not in constant pain while administering extra doses of antibiotics into their systems to help fight the sickness.” Hermione said quickly, turning a corner and glancing toward Draco’s focused face. “You know, Harry could probably use some of it.”

“But- Madam Pomfrey says he’s not allowed to have medicine lest his immunity become utter shite?”

“He’s not allowed to have  _magical_  medicines, the one that ends the flu completely and suddenly and gives his body no chance of a fight.  _Muggle_  medicines just  _help_  the body fight it.” She says quietly, glancing over and smirking before winking toward him and taking her seat in class.

Draco sat, thinking this over. Hermione was suggesting Harry receive some muggle medicine to help, but if she knew all of this already why hadn’t she done so in the first place? Why was she telling him? He glanced back toward her with a worried yet still confused look and she just sighed, rolling her eyes and withdrawing a piece of paper from her bag, shoving it toward him.

“Go order some medicine. I’ll grab yours and Harry’s work from this class. Hurry, before the teacher sees you!” She whispers quickly, practically shoving him out of his seat. He takes the note, rushing out of class, glancing down to notice an address and a list of medicine that would be best to order. Draco rolled his eyes but smiled softly as he began toward the owlery quickly.

-

Picking up his “express” shipped box from a large owl in the Great Hall, Draco immediately turned and began toward the kitchen to collect some hot soup for Harry that the elves hadn’t put on the actual tables for the school. Draco walked, if a bit fast, but kept his composure as he carried a medium sized box in his arms, glaring at anyone who happened to give him a side eye for his predicament. He finally reached the portrait of the fruit, glancing both ways before tickling the pear and slipping into the kitchen. Some elves noticed, but most were tending to their own work as Draco set the box down gently on a nearby table and asked, kindly, for a bowl of soup for someone who was sick.

As Draco waited he opened the box, glancing in to see several different rectangle boxes with the medicine stored inside them, reaching in to grab a few and read the ingredients, directions, and everything else the boxes mentioned. He sighed, dropping the two he held into the box as an elf appeared sometime later with a rather confused expression, levitating a platter of hot soup in a stasis charm and Draco’s own lunch tucked together, placing it on the table so that Draco is able to levitate it himself.

“Thank you very much,” Draco remembered to say, smiling down at the elf who was holding her ears against herself, looking very much awed at the sentiment. He picked up his box, glancing at the tray following him, and made his way through the castle toward the eighth year common room. He stepped inside, ducking slightly while stepping through the portrait since he happened to be taller than most around here and had seemed to grow even more than he had been when he attended previously, and glanced around the common room. He wasn’t surprised to spot Hermione sitting on the couch with a textbook on her lap, and he made his way over to her, sitting and placing the box on the couch between them.

“I was reading over a lot of these medicines, and I just wanted your opinion on which ones I should give to him? It seems I can’t give him doses of each one, but I don’t know which to pick?” He opened the box, revealing the twenty-three boxes and bottles of medicines, and watched as she leaned over to glance inside the box before her eyebrows shot up to her hairline, sucking in a breath.

“Okay, first of all, let’s not kill Harry with an overdose of cold medicines.” She said quietly, reaching in to shift through the medicines. “I’ll say- this one and a bit of this one, but that’s it.” She glanced up, her eyebrows still raised, as she takes in the sight of Draco. His hair might be a bit mussed from constantly running his hand through it in worry, with a tray floating behind him and a box full of medicines, and she sighed and settled down as if she was finally going to say something that she had been holding back for a long time.

“What is it,” Draco asked quietly, leaning forward and furrowing his own eyebrows. He watched her hesitate before she replied.

“You should tell him, you know.” She had whispered it so quietly that he had barely heard it, but his heart immediately dropped to his stomach and he had to remind himself to breathe.

“Tell who, what?” Draco asked slowly, keeping his eyes trained on Hermione as she fidgets slowly, her eyes downcast onto the brown carpet.

“Tell Harry. That you like him.” Again, it was said so quietly, but it felt like a punch to his gut. He immediately stood, reaching for his box, intending to just walk away and leave this conversation behind. Hermione reached out quickly, snagging his wrist, and he glanced back to her to see her pleading eyes. “Please, I won’t say anything to him, it’s not mine to tell. Don’t worry about that. If you don’t want to tell him it’s fine, it’s just-” She hesitated, biting her lip as she withdrew her hand, “I think it’d be better for everyone if you  _did_  tell him?” Draco shook his head, standing and situating the box in his hands.

“How could it be better for everyone? It would make things awkward, it would make Harry want to be around me less. I understand that hiding feelings aren’t exactly Gryffindor traits, but just because we’re all living together and sharing a common room does not mean that I am a Gryffindor by any means.” Draco began to walk away, ignoring the softly called, ‘That’s not what I meant!’ and walking upstairs toward his room in a bit of a huff.

Entering the room, he glanced toward Harry’s bed, spying him sleeping finally. He quietly set the box of medicine by his bed, levitating the tray to sit on a nearby table before studying Harry. Draco quickly waved his wand, nonverbally vanishing the tissues that had stockpiled since he left, and began a slow process of untangling the bed sheets from Harry’s legs before lifting it and pulling it up toward his chest. Draco studied the red-nosed face of sleeping Harry, and glanced away before standing again.

“Dra-co?” Harry murmured, his voice scratchy as he slowly opened his eyes, turning his head as if it hurt to wake up. Draco immediately Accioed over a glass, tapping his wand against the cup and filling it with water before helping Harry sit up, holding out the glass for him. Harry took a few big swigs, though stared at Draco over the top of the rim the whole time. Handing the glass back over, Draco began walking to place it on the nearby table with the food as Harry spoke up again. “Did you grab the homework? I don’t see it?”

Draco hesitated, blinking a few times. He had meant to ask Hermione for the homework as well as the advice on the medicine but he had gotten too distracted to ask. “Oh, no. Hermione has that, actually. I can go grab it in a second so you have something to work on when I’m gone.” He said it so matter-of-factly that he hoped Harry wouldn’t notice how he had forgotten the one thing he promised to bring. “But while I’m here,” He walked over to the box on the floor, withdrawing the two rectangular boxes that Hermione had picked out and brought them over toward Harry, whom he noticed now was wearing his glasses once again, “I have these medicines that will hopefully help you. It was Hermione’s idea, considering you’re not allowed any  _magical_  medicines, but  _muggle_  medicines should be okay. It won’t completely get rid of the problem immediately, but it’ll help you not feel like you’re dying.” He watched Harry’s face, a mixture of confusion and amazement, settle on Draco before looking back down to the boxes and grabbing them.

“You didn’t have to do this…” Harry trailed off, furrowing his brow and looking back up to Draco once more. Draco forced himself not to squirm, instead turning and levitating the bowl of soup over.

“I didn’t. Like I had said, it was Hermione’s idea.”

—

Draco shot awake, sitting up quickly in bed and breathing heavily. He didn’t know what exactly it was that woke him up in the dead of night- that was until he glanced over and noticed that a few pieces of glass had shattered from accidental magic on Harry’s side of the room. Draco slowly slid from his bed, placing his bare feet on the floor and wincing at the feel of the cold stone. “Harry?” He called quietly, though received no response. He waited a bit longer before standing and beginning a slow walk to his side of the room.

Vanishing glass pieces as he got near, he looked down to study Harry’s face, which was set in a grimace. Nightmares, it seems, again. Draco knelt beside Harry’s bed, reaching a hand out slowly to place his hand against Harry’s burning hot face, furrowing his brow in worry. After living with him most of the year, graduation coming soon, he was still unsure of what to do about the nightmares. He never woke Harry up, afraid that he wouldn’t exactly appreciate it, but more and more recently he had started sitting next to Harry’s bed while trying to soothe his unconscious body into better dreams whenever Draco woke up and realized what was happening. He began humming a small lullaby that his mother used to sing to him as a kid, brushing Harry’s hair back from his face and watching as Harry’s body slowly relaxed and his face took on a restful pose instead of the one scrunched in pain.

Draco, now almost nodding off himself, pushed against the bed to help himself stand, glancing at Harry once more before turning and beginning to walk back toward his bed.

“Draco?” Harry called softly, and Draco tensed up, hoping that he was just sleep talking. Turning slowly he eyed the form of Harry laying on the bed, though startled slightly once he noticed Harry’s eyes were open. “I hope it’s you, all I can see is a green blurry shape,” Harry joked, sleepily smirking as he propped himself up and reached for his glasses. Draco felt frozen on the spot, unsure of what was going to happen, if Harry was going to be mad or if he was going to figure out the extent of Draco’s feelings for catching him in this.

“So, it  _is_  you.” Harry joked again, pushing himself to sit up completely, looking at Draco with a smile for a few silent moments until it falls away and he sighs. “Look, I know it’s a bit awkward right now but I wanted to-” He hesitated, biting his lip and looking away, “I wanted to talk to you about something?” Draco stood there for another moment before sliding his mask back on and straightening up, smoothing his green silk pyjamas down and nodding toward Harry. “Look- no. That’s not what I want!” He began, grumbling angrily before running his hand through his hair. “I was hoping since it was late, since we both woke up, that you wouldn’t have that- that-” He hesitated, trying to find the word, clenching his fists around his bedsheets. “That  _mask_  on your face. That says you don’t care about anything, that shows nothing but contempt. That you  _hide_  behind! Because I’ve seen what is behind it, Draco. I love what’s behind that mask.” He sucked in a breath after finishing, closing his eyes and resigning himself to what he said. Draco startled, letting his shoulders sag slightly as he stood there for a bit longer before finally speaking up.

“You’re right, Harry,” Using his first name, which he doesn’t do too often, caused Harry to finally open his eyes and glance toward Draco. “I hide behind this mask because I’m afraid that no one will like who I am behind it. Or I’m scared because it’s too  _compromising_ for some people to know how I truly feel, since they can take advantage of that.” He watched Harry for a moment longer before taking a small step forward. “But I know you wouldn’t do that to me. I know you would never take advantage of me.” He finished in a whisper, watching a wide range of emotions flicker across Harry’s face.

“So if it’s not that, then is it the first one you said? You’re afraid that no one will like who you are behind it? You’re afraid that  _I_  won’t like the real you?” Draco shrugged, glancing toward the ground. “I have another question-” Harry started, biting his lip as Draco glanced back up and let his eyes rest on Harry, letting his mask fall slightly, as much as he was able to before being afraid. “You treat me so nice. Nicer than most of the others? At least, it feels like that. Hermione said something but- I don’t know.” He bit his lip again, glancing away. “I’m sorry, this is stupid.”

“No, you’re right,” Draco admitted quietly, closing his eyes and lifting his hand to rub his face. He remained quiet for a bit, then peeked through his fingers to see Harry staring at him as if waiting to elaborate. He sighed, shaking his head before continuing, dropping his hands. “ **I**  just  **want to take care of you**.” He said finally, wincing slightly. Glancing away, he misses the look that passes over Harry’s face when he says this.

“Come here,” Harry responds quietly, opening his arms. Draco hesitates, but slowly moves over and sits on the bed, and Harry pulls him into a tight embrace. “You help me study so I don’t fail my classes, you brought me medicine and soup when I was sick- you help soothe me when I have nightmares. You  _do_  take care of me Draco.” Harry whispers against his ear, squeezing him a bit tighter. “And, through all of it, I’ve seen who you really are. Who you could be if you tried to be. And I’ve-” Harry hesitated, backing away but keeping his eyes off of Draco. “And I’ve fallen in love with you through it all. But I feel bad, because it’s one-sided, isn’t it? You’ve been taking care of me, but I’ve done nothing for you.”

Draco immediately started shaking his head, raising his hand to place on Harry’s cheek, letting his thumb rub against Harry’s cheek for a moment before raising Harry’s head so that his eyes fell onto Draco’s own. “You’re wrong. You’ve done so much for me Harry. Because of you, my bullying stopped. Because of you I’ve gained some amazing friends. Because of you, I feel love and compassion. Real love, not the fake kind that was force fed to me growing up.” Draco leaned closer, looking deeper into Harry’s emerald eyes. “I  _want_  to take care of you, Harry. You deserve it, after everything you’ve been through. And it makes me feel good, knowing that I can help you during times like these. Even in small ways.”

 

He watched Harry tear up slightly before the boy rushed forward, crashing both of their lips against each other. Draco felt himself begin to drown in emotions, in the rolling waves of love and compassion and just pure  _want_. They kissed like it would be their last, like they had been starving and this was the only way to survive. And once they finally parted, Draco opened his eyes to see the love he felt reflected in Harry, and whispered, “I love you too.”


	4. Broomsticks and Shoulderpads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has no business acting weird toward Draco... or wearing shoulderpads. Who does he think he is?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly OOC, but this was just a writing exercise more than anything tbh. Trying to get back into the habit.

“The snitch is caught, the crowd goes wild!” Ron pulled up beside Harry, yelling loudly over the wind before cupping his hands around his mouth and fake-screaming, pretending to be said ‘audience’ that actually does not exist. Harry glances around, staring at the empty Quidditch stands, the snow-covered grounds that kept every student inside the castle at bay aside from the only two stupid enough to travel out in this weather.

“Come on Ron, I’m freezing,” Harry calls over toward his best friend, rolling his eyes at the ginger as he clutches the golden snitch in his palm, thankful for the gloves that keeps most of the cold away from his frozen fingers. Ron pouts but complies, and they both descend through the blowing breeze of snowflakes, landing on the edge of the field.

“Did your heating charm wear off or something?” Ron asks now that they’re landed, though still slightly louder over the picking up winds.

“No, but there’s only so much that charm can do, Ron,” Harry yells out, shaking his head and beginning a sprint toward the castle. As they run the storm begins to pick up to worse speeds, slinging snow everywhere to the point that all Harry can see surrounding him are blankets of white- until he finally breaks through into the entrance hall, the warmth crashing over him. He breathes deeply, wiping snow from his face and off his head, glancing back and watching Ron push through the white and into the entrance hall as well, equally as red-faced and covered in snow as he is.

“Okay, you may have a point about that charm thing.” Ron admits, grinning over toward Harry before a shiver wracks his body.

“What charm thing?” Harry and Ron both jump, glancing over to see a rigid Draco standing nearby with a book in hand. He was studying the two as if they were crazy, which Harry admits they may look.

“Oh, fuck off Malfoy,” Ron begins, rolling his eyes and brushing more snow from his Quidditch suit, paying no mind to the boy he just spoke to. But Harry’s eyes were trained on him, and he saw the moment that Draco had tensed further, a mask slowly being slid into place on his face as he stared at Ron, before turning and seeming slightly surprised that Harry was still watching him. Draco’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth, but Harry cut him off quickly.

“Come off it, Ron,” Harry said, still staring at Draco while he gaped lightly before closing his mouth and looking away. “The heating charm,” Harry began again, this time directed toward the one he’s been staring at, “I said it doesn’t work as well in extremely cold temperatures.” He watched Draco relax slightly, lifting his gaze to meet Harry’s before lifting his chin and responding.

“Well, obviously. It’s only a standard-issue charm, one that children learn. There are charms for extreme temperatures, but one needs to be careful when applying them. If you do it wrong, you could burn the skin or bake someone alive from the inside.” Draco instructed, shrugging before beginning to walk away.

“That’s it? No goodbye?” Harry called after him, smirking as Draco half-turned to glance at him.

“Didn’t think you wanted one, Potter.” Draco called back, stopping in his spot and watching Harry curiously.

“You’re right, I don’t.” Harry could hear Ron snickering behind him, but ignored it, “I want you to stay here.” He heard a slight gasp, though couldn’t tell if it came from Ron or Draco. Harry’s smirk slowly turned into a grin as he watched Draco glance away, a dusting of red across his cheeks. “With me,” He added after a few moments of silence.

“Goodbye, then, Potter.” Draco called out before rushing down the stairs toward the dungeons.

“What the hell was that, mate?” Ron asked from behind him, and Harry just laughed, shrugging. Ron scoffed and almost looked personally offended, Harry just rolling his eyes in response, as they both made their way up the stairs toward the Gryffindor tower.

Being in eighth year had been pretty confusing thus far for Harry. The eighth years weren’t allowed to sleep in their respective houses, but were allowed and encouraged to keep going to their common rooms so they didn’t isolate themselves away from the younger generations. They were all given their own rooms, extra ones that teachers would use but don’t, and Hogwarts had plenty of space for the few students in his grade that came back. Harry felt weird having his own room, having his own things to place in there and make it feel like the home he knows Hogwarts to be. He was having a hard time trying not to get attached to his living space, knowing that he’d have to leave at the end of the year for Auror training.

“Okay, seriously mate. You need to tell me what that was.” Harry jumped, glancing over before noticing how serious Ron had become, how he apparently was brooding about what had just happened.

“It was nothing Ron. Just some banter,” Harry tried, turning away and biting his lip, hoping that Ron wouldn’t catch the lie.

“Just some banter? Are you kidding me? That- that was teasing! Flirting, even!” Ron shuddered, and Harry shook his head at Ron’s obvious discomfort about it.

“Oh, come on, Ron. Don’t be like that.” Harry said, shaking his head and turning a corner, changing his direction away from the Gryffindor tower and now instead toward his own room.

“Be like what- where are you going Harry? We’re meeting Hermione in the tower- stop trying to change the subject, get back here!” Ron ran an aggravated hand through his hair and Harry attempted to keep his chuckles inside.

“No, you can go ahead and meet Hermione in the tower. I forgot something in my room that I need to attend to.”

“Like wanking over Draco?”   
“Bloody hell, Ron!” Harry called out, his eyes wide as he glances around the halls, thankful they’re empty.

“I’m just saying, mate. Why him?” Ron looked exasperated, but at the same time completely unsurprised.

“What do you mean, ‘why him?’ Nothing, him. Nothing is happening.” Harry’s voice was a bit more shrill than he would like to admit to as he spoke, but what disconcerted him more was Ron’s rolling his eyes and patting Harry’s shoulder, jostling his shoulderpads on his Quidditch uniform.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll tell Hermione you said hi.” Harry stared after him, completely confused and slightly scared, before turning and resuming his trek back to his room. It was situated in an old unused classroom corridor, for some odd reason, and Harry actually had to walk through a dusty classroom with tables and chairs piled against the walls before he made it to the bedroom he was assigned. 

Pushing open the door, he sighed gratefully, warmth from the nearby fire brushing over him as he glanced around his cream and brown coloured room, void of things that reminded him too much of Gryffindor- a fact that Ron constantly reminds him and complains about every time he visits. Harry wasn’t too worried about it, if he was being honest. He knew he was a Gryffindor, and that’s all he needed. He didn’t need the red and gold hanging everywhere that he once loved and now looks slightly tacky in his eyes. He was fine with his dull coloured room, his picture frames sitting on the mantle of his fireplace showing all of his friends and his godson Teddy. He had hoped when he first moved into the room that if he kept it dull enough, he wouldn’t create too big a bond with the living arrangement. It happened to be the complete opposite, the dull colours creating a comfort that Harry couldn’t ignore any longer. A comfort that made him feel completely at home and safe.

Harry moved closer toward the fire, ignoring his couch and chairs and immediately falling onto the plush carpet in front of the fire, spreading out on the floor and letting the warmth sink into his body. His mind ran over the events of the Seeker’s game before slowly moving to Draco, and how he looked in the hall. Harry tried to remember the title of the book Draco had been reading but he had been too distracted staring directly at Draco. At his face wearing such a disdainful expression, but his eyes showing slight concern as he had stared at the practically frozen boys. Harry knew he saw that, it wasn’t his imagination. After years of knowing Draco- even in the way that he did- he could read Draco better than he could read his own feelings.

That last part was especially true, considering he didn’t even understand his own feelings toward Draco. He was definitely happy, and slightly proud, that Draco had changed for the better this year. He was tutoring younger students- and not just those from the Slytherin house- while also slowly making his way through the school, apologizing to those he’s wronged. Hermione being one of the first ones. The three of them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all had believed it to be insincere when he said it the first time. But emotions were still rolling high after the war, and once they all calmed down and Draco continued to do what he was still doing now, Hermione eventually approached him and apologized herself, and Harry had watched as they  _ hugged _ . He couldn’t hear the conversation, even though he wished he could’ve. But asking Hermione, all she’d ever say was, “He’s changed. He’s better now.”

So he had began watching Draco. He couldn’t exactly explain why. Harry was definitely happy that he had changed, that he was nicer and more tolerant than his previous self. But everything that Draco was doing now was almost drawing Harry in. He wanted to get to know this new Draco. He wanted to make him laugh, to see his eyes light up in mirth and happiness that he hasn’t seen in such a long time from him. Harry’s become almost obsessed with it, though has yet to act on any of his thoughts. He resolved himself to watching from afar, unnoticed, afraid that if Harry revealed how he felt that Draco would shut him down immediately- or worse, stop his personal growth in spite of Harry.

A knock caused Harry to jump, his eyes refocusing on his surroundings and coming back to himself. Another impatient knock sounded and Harry sighed, standing and making his way over toward the door. Swinging it open, his eyes locked with Draco’s own- Draco, after he was just thinking about him, what the hell?- and Harry jumped slightly in surprise once again, staring at the boy in front of him in silence. A few awkward moments pass before he clears his throat, blinking a few times.

“Malfoy?” His name comes out sounding more choked than Harry would have liked, but he goes with it, leaning against his door frame. “What are you doing here? How do you know where my room is?” It was true that his room was more of a secret than the rest of the eighth years’, for the sole reason that too many ‘adoring fans’ had ambushed him at his last room to the point that he had slept in Ron’s room for a week straight until McGonagall had moved him. He watched Draco roll his eyes and move to cross his arms, but he was holding a broomstick that stopped that action, seemingly catching both of them by surprise when it swung around. Wait-

“I brought your broom,” Draco said just as Harry’s eyes finished roaming the length of the broom and realizing that it was, in fact, his broom. He must’ve completely forgotten about it back at the entrance hall.

“Oh,” Harry blinked a few times, a tad disappointed though he doesn’t want to think of why, as he reached for it. “Thanks, then.”

“And I know where your room is because the Weasel told me,” Draco began, crossing his arms finally, and raising his chin up slightly. “I found him in the halls and brought the broom to him, telling him that you had dropped it. He just scoffed at me and told me to bring it to you myself. So I did.” Once he finished he discreetly peeked over Harry’s shoulder toward his room, his eyebrows slowly raising. Harry watched Draco take in his room before slowly smirking.

“See something you like, Draco?” He watched Draco jump before his icy-blue eyes scanned Harry’s figure, a blush creeping on his cheeks. 

“I was just surprised, is all. Your room looks different than how I imagined.” Harry just laughed in response, rolling his eyes and backing away from the open door, moving to place his broom where it belonged. 

“Ah, yeah. Ron is more of the ‘red and gold goes everywhere’ kinda guy. I prefer a more laid-back kind of style.” Harry spun around, watching Draco take a hesitant step inside before Harry lifted his arms to show off his room. 

“I like it,” Draco admitted quietly, and Harry wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t staring directly at the boy and watching his every move. He begins to look around his own room as well.

“Yeah, me too,” Harry finally admitted, a sad tone to his voice, turning to look back at the confusion etched on Draco’s face. They both remained quiet for a short time, both alternating between staring at each other and studying the decor of Harry’s room. Finally, Draco spoke up, breaking the mounting silence.

“Why in Merlin’s tits are you wearing  _ shoulderpads _ , Potter?” Harry studied Draco’s flushed face in confusion, tilting his head.

“Well, I was playing Quidditch-”

“Shoulderpads aren’t exactly required on the Quidditch uniform- and besides. How long have you been back in your room? Why are you still wearing those?” Draco began waving his hands around frantically before huffing and taking a few steps toward Harry’s couch, plopping down onto it and startling slightly when he sunk lower than he thought he would. Harry held back his chuckles, but grinned toward him as he moved to sit next to Draco.

“I have a history of falling off of my brooms, it seems. Extra protection couldn’t hurt.” He hesitated at Draco’s small snicker, smiling to himself before continuing, “Plus, Ron was throwing bludgers at me while I tried to catch the snitch. Figured extra protection couldn’t hurt, yeah? Why are they bothering you so much?”

Harry watched Draco squirm slightly in his seat before reaching into his shoulder bag and withdrawing a book- the same book, Harry realized, making a point to read the title: “Tales from the Darkness”- and opening it to a bookmark he had left in it. “They’re not. You can sit in your filthy uniform for as long as you want, I don’t care.” Harry blinked, a new confusion spreading inside of him.

Did Draco just invite himself inside to sit on Harry’s couch and read?

“Is that some kind of fantasy-fiction book?” Harry asked, scooting closer to lean over slightly and read whatever page Draco was on. Draco closed his book slightly, though not all the way, and sighed.

“Not really, if you must know.”

“What is the genre, then?” Harry asked, genuinely curious, watching as Draco tensed slightly to the question and look back down toward his book as if regretting taking it out. They sat in silence for a few moments, Harry about to speak up and say that Draco didn’t have to tell him, when Draco finally spoke.

“It’s romance,” He admitted, opening his book and beginning to read it again as if the discussion was over. Harry sighed, rolling his eyes and laying back on the couch, studying Draco’s position across from him. He considered asking why Draco came in just to sit and read, but he didn’t want to scare him off. He enjoyed having Draco’s company here, surprisingly enough.

Instead, he stood, thinking about what Draco had said and moving to his dresser to collect some clothes he could change into. He glanced toward where Draco was sitting on the couch before moving beside his bed, drawing the curtains and beginning to change.

“Potter?”

“Yes, Malfoy?”

“What are you doing?”

“Changing my clothes, just like you suggested.” Harry answered, using a cleaning charm on himself and smirking before pulling on a shirt. There was silence for a moment before Draco answered a bit frantically.

“While I’m in here?!”

“Well, I  _ did _ draw the curtain.” Harry said, grinning and pushing open the curtain in one swift move, gathering his quidditch uniform and tossing it into a laundry basket next to his dresser. He took in Draco’s startled expression, beginning to feel a tad guilty now, shuffling from foot to foot. “I mean, I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I just assumed you wouldn’t exactly mind, I mean, you didn’t see anything-” Harry rambled on, his voice turning into a mumble as he raised his hand to rub the back of his head, feeling foolish now.

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes before looking back down toward his book and replying as if he was speaking to the pages. “It didn’t bother me- just startled me. I looked up and you weren’t around.” Harry blinked a few times before moving and taking his seat next to Draco once again.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly, studying Draco’s face as he took a deep breath and looked upward toward Harry, the two locking eyes. A moment seemed to pass between the two, a charged one that meant more than either wanted to admit. Harry didn’t know what to say, not wanting to seem like he didn’t want Draco around, but wondering why he  _ was _ in the first place.

“Why are you just staring at me?” Draco’s voice was a tad quieter than it was previously, and he cleared his throat, glancing away as a small flush graced his cheeks once again. Harry noted how easily it was to make him flush, taking pleasure in the fact.

“Well, you were staring at me too.” Harry pointed out, grinning as Draco huffed and opened his book, moving to show that he was reading it, which Harry doubted by now.

So if he couldn’t ask why Draco was here, and Draco didn’t want to talk, then…

Harry slid down off of the sofa onto the floor, grabbing his bag and pulling some books out to place on the table. He could feel Draco’s eyes on his back, but opened his textbooks and began working on his Transfiguration assignment, not bothering to say anything else. Time passed quickly after that, Harry working on his assignment, listening to the slight ruffle of pages from time to time behind him, or feeling Draco resituate himself sometimes to get more comfortable. It was peaceful, the fire flickering in front of him, the snow storm whipping around outside of his window. Harry even just enjoyed the presence of Draco sitting behind him, the calmness that surrounded them where once he would’ve never believed there could’ve been. 

“That sentence there is wrong,” Draco pointed out, leaning over Harry’s shoulder and pressing his finger to the side of the scroll, tapping it twice before leaving his finger there once more. “I know it seems that way, but if you actually look in your textbook around page 295, you can see that it’s actually the opposite.” Harry blinked a few times, smirking and reaching over to flip to the correct page in his textbook.

“Ah, am I one of your students now? Are you tutoring me, Malfoy?” Harry teased, glancing behind him and up to see Draco’s surprised face, winking at him before turning his attention back toward the assignment.

“Well, if you keep messing up like that, you ought to be,” Draco mumbled, leaning back into the sofa once more and opening his book to continue reading. Harry read the page, making an affirmative noise once he found the correct paragraph before rephrasing his own essay. He made it about halfway through his assigned length before huffing loudly and spinning to look at Draco, placing his arms up on the cushions and laying his head down on them.

“Whatcha’ readin’?” Harry blinked a few times up toward Draco, watching him finish whatever paragraph or sentence he was reading before placing his bookmark, a slim green ribbon, between the pages and closing the book.

“I think that’s fairly obvious, Harry. If you just read the title right here,” Draco stated, tapping his finger against the front cover of the book. Harry rolled his eyes, moving his head to rest his chin against his arms and play-glare up toward Draco.

“I meant what is the book about. It’s romance, you said?” He watched Draco hesitate once again, staring at the book before Harry gave out a long sigh. “Look, Draco. I’m not going to judge you. I’m just  _ really _ bored.” Harry took pride in the small smirk he spied that Draco tried to hide before he sighed, turning the book over and reading the back cover.

“ _ John Anderson was a lonely man, his heart filled with darkness as deep as the ocean that he lived upon the shore of. His job was to care for the lighthouse next door to him, while wishing the giant spinning bulb could light up his own life. It was ironic, however, that the lighthouse turning off and plunging the world around him into darkness would be the path that led John’s heart to light. During the frantic adventure to fix the lighthouse within a few days, when a cruise ship would be passing by and could wreck upon the rocky shores of Whitehallow without the light to guide them, John will run into many choices that he must face on his own. Will he be able to figure out how to fix the lighthouse? And will this mystery man, Carlisle Hopkins, help to fix not only the light, but John as well? _ ”

Harry nodded along, tilting his head slightly as he listened before pursing his lips. “Hm, so a  _ gay _ romance novel, then?” Harry asked, raising his gaze toward Draco. He watched the boy tense again, his eyes flicking between the book and Harry. Finally he steeled himself, straightening his posture to something that looked almost painful.

“It is. And I’m reading it because I am gay, myself, Potter. If you must know. Do you have a problem with that?” Harry raised his eyebrows as Draco spoke quickly and haughtily, “Because if you do I can just leave right now. I’m not going to change myself for any-”

“I don’t have a problem with that Malfoy, calm down.” Harry watched as surprise flickered over Draco’s face before they locked eyes and remained silent for a few moments. Something seemed to pass between them, an unasked question that Harry was fine with answering. “I’m not gay myself-” He watched Draco sink slightly into his chair, his straight posture losing its vigor, “But I am bisexual.” Harry finally admits, watching Draco’s eyes flick to his quickly before looking back down at his book, letting himself sink further into the couch.

“You’re lying,” Harry heard Draco whisper, and Harry gave out a large chuckle, pushing himself up slowly and moving to sit on the couch he had been leaning on. He seemed to have startled Draco with his outburst, the boy now looking at him strangely.

“Why would I lie about that?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

“You’ve only ever been in relationships with girls,” Draco said, a statement that he phrased almost like a question. Harry rolled his eyes, turning to let his gaze linger over his fireplace.

“You  _ do _ know what exactly bisexual means, right?” Harry asked icily, waiting. “‘Cause if you’re one of those people who tries to say that bisexuality doesn’t exist-”

“Merlin, Potter. Just stop. Stop.” Draco’s hands were pushed outward, and he was quickly shaking his head. “Start over. From the beginning.” Harry blinked slowly, staring at him. “You’re bisexual,” He began, pointing at Harry, before moving his finger to point at himself, “And I’m gay. I like reading romance novels and you-”

“-Wear shoulderpads with my Quidditch uniform,” Harry supplied jokingly, his mouth quirking up into a smirk. Draco glared at him before shaking his head.

“Why am I here?” He finally asked and Harry sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“I’ve been wondering that myself,” Harry admits, looking down toward his rug, a bit lost.

“Then why didn’t you ask sooner?” Draco asked softly, and Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I didn’t want you to think I didn’t want you here. I figured if I asked why you were here, it would come across in a way that meant I wanted you to leave. Which I don’t.” Harry opened his eyes, glancing toward Draco. “Want you to leave, I mean.” He watched Draco blink a few times, before shaking his head slowly.

“Why? Why do you keep saying that?” Draco finally asked, setting his novel onto the coffee table in front of him.

“Because it’s the truth?” Harry tried, wincing slightly. He watched Draco glare at him before sighing and running his hand through his hair again. “You’ve changed Draco. I’ve seen it. I just- I really want to get to know you. The new Draco.” Harry watched him suck in a breath before leaning back, narrowing his eyes slightly toward Harry. “Why are you here, then?” Harry asked, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes back in challenge.

“I-” Draco began, blinking and sitting up straight once more, folding his hands in his lap. “I wanted-” He sighed, shaking his head. “I wanted to figure out why you’ve been staring at me so much. Why you said what you did in the hall earlier.” He shrugged, lifting his gaze to stare at the fire. “I wanted to know why your room is so tastefully set up, instead of the red and gold I thought would be everywhere.” He bit his lip, and they were both quiet before he continued, his voice low. “I realized all too suddenly that I didn’t really know you the way I thought I did.”

“And that upset you?” Harry asked quietly, watching Draco jump slightly as if he just remembered Harry was there.

“I- I guess so,” He started, raising his hands to place over his face. “I guess I-” He groaned, shaking his head but continuing through his hands, “I thought I knew you better than most other people, maybe besides Granger or Weasel. But,” He removed his hands, sighing, “I don’t, do I?”

“I think you do,” Harry mumbled quietly, “I feel the same way about you.” Draco let his head turn, their gaze catching and sparking before Draco let out a humourless laugh.

“Who gave us Veritaserum before this conversation, Potter? I never thought I’d share so much with anyone, let alone you.” Harry grinned in response, scooting over slightly to get closer to him.

“Maybe you just needed the right person to talk to.” Harry whispered, smiling toward Draco, watching as emotions flickered in his eyes instead of across his face, a talent he had learned from his family, Harry knew. And Harry wanted more than anything to be able to read his eyes, the only thing left defenseless in his demeanor. 

“Maybe,” Draco whispered back, allowing the statement Harry had said. Harry sucked in a breath, holding it as he reached his hand forward slowly to meet with Draco’s own still clutched together. “So, on the topic of saying anything that comes into our brains right now,” Draco began, and Harry smirked, nodding along, “I’m assuming you’ve never actually been with a boy?”

Harry smiled, looking sheepishly as he dipped his head slightly, a blush playing across his cheeks. “No, not really. I’ve only kissed two people, both girls. It’s hard to find someone who wants me for me, y’know, instead of the ‘golden boy’ thing.” Harry admits quietly, the snowstorm picking up outside and creating a light howl in the air.

“Maybe you just needed the right boy to kiss,” Draco whispered, and Harry looked up quickly, their eyes meeting again before Draco leaned forward, their lips brushing against one another’s suddenly. It was such a small piece of contact, but a feeling burned brightly inside Harry’s chest and he quickly leaned forward, deepening it as Draco released the clutch of his hands, wrapping them both around Harry’s one hand. Lights seemed to explode behind Harry's eyelids, butterflies releasing in his stomach, and Harry finally realized to the extent of why he was so fascinated by Draco. They parted slowly, and Harry took a moment to take a deep breath before opening his eyes once again.

They locked eyes, and Harry bit his lip, attempting to read the rolling emotions in Draco’s own eyes. “I think you’re right.” Harry watched Draco jump slightly, as if being caught off guard, and then blink a few times.

“I’m sorry?” Draco asked, tilting his head to the side as if confused. Harry held back his laughter, leaning forward to ghost his breath over Draco’s mouth once more.

“That I just needed the right boy to kiss.” He leaned forward once more, placing his lips softly against Draco’s again, humming in contentment. He felt Draco’s soft gasp, and his own lips upturn in a smile, leaning forward even more and pressing his chest against Draco’s arm.

Draco pulled back, taking in a deep breath and smoothing a hand down his torso. “Well, Potter, I'm glad to see you're so agreeable. If we're going to work out, you need to realize that I'll be right most of the time.” Harry's grin turned feral, and he leaned in to nip at Draco's throat.

“Call me Harry.”


	5. Professors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First year of being Professors at Hogwarts, Draco and Harry reunite after years apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drabble based on [this artwork!](https://mzuul.tumblr.com/post/176705029966/first-year-hogwarts-professors-at-hogsmeade) Without it this wouldn't exist!

Harry took a deep breath, shaking his hands out as he stood in front of the mirror, his glasses glinting against the slight candle light that hung next to the opposite of himself. He was nervous, to say the least. This would be his first year teaching at Hogwarts- not just interning, or planning, or listening to lectures about  _ how to _ lecture. This was his first year doing the job he wants.

Of course, everyone had expected him to become an auror after he graduated Hogwarts. Harry scoffs and shakes his head and he takes ahold of his brown overcoat, swinging it around in the air and pushing his arms through the sleeves. As if ‘The Boy Who Lived’ has the only purpose of defending the world. Perhaps if he was only a title and not an entire being he might have pursued that line of work. However, he is a human, with feelings and trauma already etched into his memory. Teaching seemed like a nice way to settle down and take a breath.

He began his journey to Hogsmeade, running over his list in his mind, biting his lip as he wondered to himself if he should put in an order for new winter boots just yet or if he should postpone it just a tad longer. He should be able to hold off for another month, he nodded to himself. The weather was as shitty as usual, but it didn’t seem likely to snow anytime soon. He reassured himself with a deep breath, knowing he just didn’t want to enter the shop and receive the hero ovation he typically got when he was in there.

Harry felt a raindrop hit the top of his head and he flinched, glancing up at the grey clouds floating above his head. ‘ _ Speaking of shitty weather, _ ’ he thought to himself, as he cast an umbrella charm, watching the shimmering air begin to protect himself. He sighed, shaking his head from wandering thoughts as he began back down the road. He cursed himself for not looking ahead of himself as he ran into another form, stumbling slightly and glimpsing a form of black with light coloured hair. “Bloody he- my bad, I’m sorry,” He called back, glimpsing back toward the person he had mowed down before he hesitated and he lost his breath.

“Wait- wait, Malfoy?” He called out, his brows furrowing.

The figure halted, turning slightly before he was met with his steel grey eyes. “Potter? It’s been awhile.” Draco’s voice was soft, much more fluid than Harry remembered. It had been awhile, they hadn’t seen each other since the eighth year of school they shared. They hadn’t spoken since-

Harry broke off that train of thought, raising his gaze from where it had crept to Draco’s mouth. “It has. Why- I mean, what are you doing back? How-”  _ long do you plan on staying? _ Harry cut himself off before he continued, biting his lip as he stared up into the familiar cold depths of Draco’s eyes. Why was he here?

“I start my job today,” Draco responded, quietly, inching slightly forward and under Harry’s umbrella charm. “I work at Hogwarts now, I’m the new potion’s professor.” Harry’s eyes widened as he took this information in. A flashback happened in his mind that lasted a second long- the last teacher’s meeting that he had attended with the Headmistress McGonagall had said that she hired a french professor to teach potions now that Slughorn had finally retired. France, then? That’s where Draco had run to?

“You- You start your- your,” Harry stuttered, his mind flooding of memories of Draco. Putting to rest any old animosities, growing closer as friends, and that one fateful night during the party for graduation. The day that Harry had finally acted on his instincts from the past few years and had kissed him.

“Do you live here, Harry? I hadn’t expected to see you so soon,” Draco practically whispered now, his cold walls held in place, yet slowly crumbling before Harry’s eyes. He could see the pain there, and a fierce expression of emotion that Harry couldn’t place, but could easily relate with. “Or are you just visiting?”

Harry shook his head slightly, eyes locked on the grey eyes that felt much more alive than their surroundings. “No- I live in Hogwarts. I’m a professor there. I am as well, I mean,” Harry let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, tilting his head slightly to the side, “I am the Defensive instructor.” He watched as surprise fluttered across Draco’s expression before the boy moved slightly closer, raising a hand to place against the umbrella charm between them.

“Then I suppose I’ll see you around, then?” Draco mumbled, his eyes losing something that must have been hope. Harry felt startled for a moment- was this his only chance? He had to take it. His heartbeat kicked up to a fierce beat, his breathing speeding, and he felt ready to burst.

“Draco-” He started, watching the boy in question’s eyes widen slightly, “I just- you didn’t-” Harry took another breath, shaking his head, “I guess, I’m just sorry for eighth year. Well, at the graduation party, I mean.”

“You’re sorry?” Draco’s eyebrows furrow as he stares at Harry, and incredulous expression crossing his features. “You’re sorry for what happened? You mean, toward the end?” Harry nodded slowly and Draco chewed on that response before shifting slightly on his feet, studying Harry’s eyes intently. “ _ You’re _ sorry?”

It was Harry’s turn to finally furrow his own brow. “Yes?” He answered, more of a question this time than a statement. “I scared you away from what I did- I didn’t mean to. You ran all the way to France to get away from me. I didn’t think it all the way through Draco, I know at the time turning me down would’ve gotten your name slandered even worse in the paper, I didn’t think Draco- I’m so sorry-”

“Please,” Draco interrupted, taking a deep breath, “Stop saying my name. It makes it hard to think.” Harry was taken aback for a second and Draco closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Harry could hear the rain splatter against the ground around them, causing small rivers to begin to form along the outskirts of the path they stood on. Hogsmeade was very used to this weather, and Harry wasn’t surprised it had happened at all. Though it was the weather that was forcing such the close proximity to Draco during this moment, and he didn’t know whether to love or hate it for that.

“Tell me, Harry,” Draco began, opening his eyes and searching Harry’s own once more, “What you think happened that day?”

“We were at the party together,” Harry began slowly, a tad unnerved at being the sole focus of Draco’s gaze. “There was alcohol being passed around and we both drank quite a lot. We began to walk back to our dormitory together and then Filch appeared in the hallway and almost caught us. I grabbed you by your shirt and pulled you into a nearby closet. It was dark, and cramped, and having you there-” Harry’s voice caught, and he cleared his throat, shifting on his feet, “I was tempted, and drunk, so I kissed you. And then you left the next day and I never got to say goodbye- or that I was sorry.”

The silence surrounding them once he stopped was almost deafening to Harry’s ears. At some point during his rant, Harry had begun staring at the sign for Honeydukes instead of looking at Draco, and he kept his gaze there, afraid of what he might see.

“You think that you started the kiss?” Draco whispered, and Harry nodded slowly. “Harry- that was me. I kissed you first. I pushed myself on you, and you pushed me away. I left so suddenly because I-” Draco’s voice cracked and Harry glanced back, watching as pain crossed the boy’s face once again. “I left because I couldn’t handle being rejected by the man I had come to fall in love with.”

Harry didn’t bother thinking anymore. He raised the hand not holding the umbrella charm and placed it on the back of Draco’s neck, pulling him down and slotting his mouth against the blond’s own. It took Draco a second to realize what was happening, but once it happened Harry had an arm wrap around his waist and both boys were pulling each other closer, kissing slowly and passionately in the middle of Hogsmeade.

It felt like forever before they came up for air. Harry stared into Draco’s eyes, trying to find any hint that this might not be real, but only found his own hope he felt reflected back at him. “This is what happens when you don’t communicate,” Harry whispered to him, a smirk tugging at his lips, “We lose precious years and go through such unnecessary heartbreak.”

Draco chuckled breathlessly, still seemingly searching Harry’s eyes. “Why did you pull away, back then?” Harry kept the smirk but furrowed his brow again as if it was obvious.

“Draco, we were drunk. I didn’t want the first time of us being together to be while our inhibitions were so low- I didn’t want either of us to forget it if we went so far. And I couldn’t be sure you would’ve agreed to it had you been sober. There was a lot we needed to talk about.” Harry winked, his smirk growing, “You know, communication and whatnot.”

Draco rolled his eyes, leaning down and placing a light kiss on Harry’s lips. They stayed like that for a few seconds before Draco sighed, tension seeming to leave his body. “I should get to the school, I need to check in with the Headmistress.”

“I’ll walk you there,” Harry replied, releasing the umbrella charm that was no longer needed before catching the hand that had been resting above his, linking his fingers with Draco’s. Harry rested his forehead against Draco’s chest for a moment, taking a deep breath and wondering how he could be so lucky.

He definitely could wait another month before ordering those winter shoes now. Perhaps Draco might even have a pair he could borrow?

 


End file.
